


Afterwards

by Angelwithwingsoffire



Series: Prompts [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Multi, Stiles is dead, im crying, you probably will as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwithwingsoffire/pseuds/Angelwithwingsoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finds Scott crying and tries to comfort him but finds he can't. And then he remembers. He's the reason Scott is crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> I motherfucking sobbed writing this so fair warning!  
> Also don't blame me for the sadness it was [prompted](http://perfectalphadouchebag.tumblr.com/post/91919748784/can-i-get-something-sad-with-sciles) to me on tumblr

Stiles walked into the living room of the house he shared with Scott and was surprised at the sight before him. Scott was on the couch, crying. His head was in his hands and his whole body was shaking with the sobs that tore their way out of his body. Stiles snapped into protective mode and hurried to Scott’s side. He hasn’t seen Scott cry this violently since Allison died. Ever since the two of them realized they were growing closer again but in a different way and got together. Their parents had found that hilarious. Apparently they’d been making bets on it for years. And now, seeing his husband crying that hard after ten years of peace in this godforsaken town, Stiles felt like he himself was in pain. He rushed to Scott’s side and put his arms around him. He couldn’t move him to pull him to Stiles’s chest but that wasn’t surprising. When Scott didn’t want to move, he didn’t. Stiles had gotten used to it.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Stiles whispered, moving to press himself against Scott instead. He dropped his chin onto Scott’s shoulder and held Scott tightly. “It’s gonna be okay mój wilk.” Stiles had started calling Scott that years ago. Stiles liked using the language his mother used to use for him and Scott always liked hearing the Polish endearment as he said it reminded him of Stiles’s mother and the family they’ve lost.

Scott seemed to be saying something but Stiles couldn’t make the words out through the sobs that were choking Scott’s words off so he just held Scott tighter.

“It’s okay Scott. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m always right by you. It’s okay.” Stiles let the words fall off his tongue, a constant stream of reassurance and love that he hoped would help Scott calm down enough to tell Stiles why he was crying so violently. As he talked he became aware of the words Scott was saying. He slowly managed to decifer them but they didn’t make anything anymore clear.

“I’m sorry.” Scott was saying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve stopped it. I’m sorry.”

Stiles squeezed his arms around Scott, trying to be the anchor he knew Scott needed. “It’s okay Scott. It’s not your fault. Baby it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry.” Scott kept repeating. “I should’ve stopped it. If I’d have moved fast enough I could’ve stopped it. I could’ve saved you.”

“It’s not your fault.” Stiles said. He didn’t know if he was lying or not because he still didn’t know what Scott was so worked up over but he knew that whatever had happened Scott was blaming himself. “It’s not your fault Scotty. Not your fault.”

“ _Stiles_.” Scott hissed out, his voice sounding broken. As if he was utterly defeated. “I’m sorry Stiles. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Stiles’s arms around Scott dropped in surprise. He remembered now. He looked down at his chest and the jeans, graphic tee, and plaid button up he’d been wearing were torn and bloody and sticking straight out of his chest was an arrowhead. It was straight through his chest. The point was sticking out of his chest and he could feel the end in the center of his back. And his breath caught in his throat as the memory of how it got there came crashing through his mind.

 

_“STILES! RUN!” Scott screamed. “RUN!”_

_Stiles tried. God did he try. He hadn’t meant to get caught by the new hunters in town. They were young ones, probably the first time they’ve been released from their family’s watchful eyes and sent to find and remove werewolf threats around the country. And they decided Beacon Hills, home of the McCall pack, should be cleansed of all wolves. But instead of catching a wolf in their forest trap, they’d caught a human. His legs were tangled in the rope trap they’d caught him but his loud scream when he’d triggered it had brought the rest of the pack, as well as the hunters, running towards him. Now his pack and the hunters were fighting together and Scott had the leader by the throat but Stiles could tell that the fight was an even match. He scrambled to his feet, trying to pull his feet out of the net but he kept stumbled and tripping on it. By the time he finally got out he was gasping and he could feel rope burns on his legs but he was out and just as he managed to stand up and was getting ready to start running he felt a sharp pain in his back and chest and stumbled to a stop. He looked down at his chest and saw the bloody arrow sticking out of his chest. His vision went spotted and he heard Scott screaming his name before everything went black._

 

Stiles gasped for breath, staring down at the arrow. That’s why Scott was crying. That’s why Stiles couldn’t move him. That’s why Stiles couldn’t comfort him. Because he wasn’t there. He was dead. And Scott was crying for him. He looked down at Scott’s hands, clutched together under his chin and as Scott opened them to look down at what he was holding Stiles’s heart broke. In Scott’s hand was a silver ring to match the gold one on Scott’s left hand. The ring was intricately carved with runes of magic and protection. Stiles and Scott designed them together. And now Scott was holding Stiles’s ring in his hand and there were blood stains on the metal, mixing with the tears dripping into Scott’s hands.

“I’m sorry.” Scott said, staring down at the ring. “I’m so sorry Stiles. If I’d have moved faster you’d still be here. You’d still be with us. With _me_.”

Stiles could feel tears running down his face but when he reached up to touch his face he found his cheeks dry. “Scott.” He said. “I’m right here. I’m right here Scott. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

The door opened and Scott looked up. Stiles followed his lead and saw his dad standing there, tears on his own face and dressed in his Sheriff uniform.

“It’s time Scott.” John said.

Scott’s sobs died down but tears were still pouring down his face as he nodded and stood up. For the first time Stiles noticed what Scott was wearing. He was dressed in a black suit but he had a bright red tie on. It looked a bit weird against the all black of the rest of his clothes but Stiles recognized it as the tie he’d bought Scott for their five year wedding anniversary.

John opened his arms and Scott stepped into them easily. John had always been like a father to Scott and they’d only gotten closer after Stiles and Scott got together. The two of them held tightly to each other for a moment before they started outside.

Stiles hurried after them, wanting to see what was going to happen. He followed them outside and then both climbed into their cars. John got in his cruiser and Scott got in the SUV he and Stiles had got together. Stiles clambered into the car, finding that he just slipped through the door instead of moving it. He rode along, staring at Scott. He hated seeing his husband like this. Scott’s cheeks were streaked with tears and his eyes were red and puffy, an impressive feat with the speed of werewolf healing, and his every breath was loud with the amount of mucus stuck in his nose. It was overall a gross look but Stiles’s heart was breaking because it was him that caused it. He was the reason Scott looked like this. He was the reason Scott was crying and sobbing harder than he had in over ten years. He stared at Scott the entire ride and it wasn’t until Scott stopped and turned off the car that Stiles realized where they were. They were at the graveyard.

Scott sat there, not making any move to get out of the car. His hands were gripping the wheel with white knuckles and Stiles could see the metal warping under his fingers. He reached over and put his hand over Scott’s fingers, trying to give some measure of comfort to him even without Scott being able to feel, hear, or see him. They sat there for a long while before the door opened and Scott turned to see Lydia standing there. Aging had done Lydia well and she was still just as gorgeous as she was in high school, albeit in a more mature way.

“Come on Scott.” Lydia said softly. “We’re all waiting.”

“I can’t.” Scott choked out.

“I know it’s hard.” Lydia said, tears in her eyes. “But Stiles wouldn’t want us all to stop our lives because his ended.”

Stiles nodded in his seat even though neither of them could see him. He had already accepted it. He accepted it back in the house. But he doesn’t want them to cry over him. He died the way he’d always wanted to and always knew he would. In a fight for his and his packs’ lives. He didn’t want their lives to fall apart just because he was stupid enough to get caught.

“He would want this.” Lydia said.

Scott nodded but he made no move to move. “Help me? Please?”

Lydia smiled through the tears on her face. “Always.” She stepped up on the step and put her hands on Scott’s. She slowly pried his hands from the wheel, leaving hand indents in the wheel. She tugged his arms gently and slowly he climbed from the car and stepped into Lydia’s arms. She hugged him tightly and he buried his face in her shoulder, his body shaking with tears again.

Stiles clambered across the car and out again. He fell against Scott’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he could. Moments later Scott and Lydia separated again but they kept their arms linked.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Lydia asked.

Scott nodded, gulping loudly. “I have to be. I have to do it. For him.”

Lydia gave him a tense smile and they started into the cemetery, Stiles trailing unseen behind them.

Stiles saw the grave ahead, everything set up and a small group already gathered around it. When they reached them everyone surrounded Scott and Stiles had to step away to avoid watching Isaac’s hand go through his body. He walked over to the coffin and put a hand on it. There were purple lilies mixed with black roses as the arrangement and he smiled slightly when he saw it. He’d once told Scott as a joke that if he dies in a fight he doesn’t want red flowers on his coffin. He wants purple and black on it. And Scott had remembered. He looked back towards the pack and once again his heart felt like it was shattering.

Scott was at the center, sobbing anew, and the whole pack was crowded around him, crying themselves and just clinging to each other, trying to pull it back together. Scott was in Derek’s arms. The two of them had become like brothers over the years and Derek was crying almost as hard as Scott was. Isaac was clinging to both of them, sobbing into Derek’s shoulder blade. The two of them had taken years to get to where they are now but neither one had ever smiled as much as the last time Stiles saw them before the forest fight. They were good for each other. Lydia and Jackson were at Scott’s back, holding each other tight with hands reached out to press against Scott’s back. It was weird for Stiles to watch Jackson cry over him but it had been years since the two of them had fought and they were both starting to like each other just a bit. They’d been on the way to good friends. Lydia’s makeup was already running and that surprised Stiles. He was sure she wouldn’t have forgotten to use waterproof makeup but then he realized that she probably did but there were so many tears that even the waterproof was no match for the tears streaming down her face. Danny and Ethan were to one side of Lydia and Jackson, crying on each other but once again turned towards Scott with hands outstretched to press against him. Cora, Kira, and Malia were on the other side of Lydia and Jackson, crying on each other. The three of them were good together. They were all strong and independent women and that caused fights sometimes but they always made up. All three of them had hands pressed against Scott. Everyone was trying to give him the contact he needed in hopes of helping him heal when all of them were broken. At first Stiles was confused by the lack of children. Everyone in the pack had kids. Even he and Scott. And then he realized that all the kids have powers. Over half of them can feel the emotions of the people around them. Being there, at his grave, would probably be too much. For all of them. They were probably at the station. The deputies there were always happy to take care of any of the kids. Stiles, Scott, Derek, Ethan, and Malia were all deputies there and the whole station knew all the kids. They were okay, he knew that much, but he wondered how they were taking this.

Stiles watched them, once again feeling tears on his face without there actually being any there.

Soon they pack parted, staying together, and moved to the graveside. The parents that had been waiting for them joined them, taking hands and accepting hugs to connect them to the rest of the pack. The priest started the ceremony and everyone cried silently as he spoke. Stiles ignored the words, instead deciding to stare at the parents. He’d been so focused on his friends that he hadn’t really looked at them yet. His dad looked worst of all, his face red and his puffy. There were tear tracks running down his face but he still looked sober. Stiles probably had Melissa to thank for that. The two of them had drawn close, never actually becoming anything but Stiles was glad she was there to stop him from returning to the bottle now that Stiles wasn’t around to draw him away. Melissa herself had smeared makeup and red eyes. She’d always seen Stiles as a son to her, that feeling only emphasized by the bond that had formed between him and her son, and now she was standing in the graveyard as they buried him. Stiles could remember her holding him when they stood in this very graveyard to bury his mom and he’d always hoped that it would eventually be him and Scott standing at her grave rather than her standing at his. But he couldn’t do anything about that. He turned his attention to Chris. The last of the parents still among the pack and the one Stiles figured would be least affected by his death. But Chris looked awful. His eyes were red and there were huge bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days. And maybe he hadn’t. He’s probably had to do a lot of damage control. The pack no doubt slaughtered all the hunters in the woods that day and Chris would’ve had to deal with that. His face looked tired and for the first time Stiles realized just how old Chris was and just how much the man had been put through. He’d been raised to hate werewolves and then his daughter had turned that entire world upside down. He found out his sister was a mass murderer, of children no less, and had had to see her dead body after Peter tore her throat out. His father had been a maniac and his wife had killed herself after being bitten by one of the same people he now thought of as family. Chris has had a hard life and Stiles had never realized it before. But standing there at his grave, he realized it.

Stiles was brought back to reality when he heard a choked off sob tear its way from Scott’s chest. His oldest and bestest friend looked ready to shatter.

“You don’t have to do this.” Derek told him softly.

“Yes I do.” Scott said quietly. He walked forward and the pack let him through. He stood next to the coffin, still connected to the pack by Lydia, who had a hold of one of his hands. With the other he held up a piece of paper.

“Hi Stiles.” He said through his tears. “I know you probably won’t hear this but I feel like I need to say it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough to stop that hunter. I’m sorry it was you he was aiming at. I’m sorry I let you go for your usual run that night when I knew there were potential hunters in town. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before you left. I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t take my last chance to tell you how much you mean to me. I’m sorry you won’t get to see Missy’s first day of kindergarten. I’m sorry you won’t get to see RJ when he gets his first crush. I’m sorry you won’t get to see Claudia’s first day of high school. I’m sorry you won’t get to threaten her prom date with your gun. I’m sorry you won’t get to fluster and stammer your way through giving RJ the sex talk. I’m sorry you won’t get to walk either of our daughters down the aisle. I’m sorry you won’t get to see the smiles on their faces at Christmas or their faces when the graduate high school. I’m sorry you won’t get to see them grow up. But most of all I’m sorry I won’t get to watch you grow old. I’m sorry you won’t get to live out your dream of the two of us old and withered in rocking chairs on the front porch surrounded by our grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I’m sorry you won’t be here. At my side. Where you belong.” His voice broke off and he had to stop for a long moment before he could keep going. “I love you Stiles. I’ll always love you. You’re my forever, remember?”

Stiles did remember. When they got married they’d changed the traditional vows to be each other’s forever instead of husbands. Everyone had found it hilarious but they’d all found it just as adorable when Stiles showed them the engravings on the inside of their rings. It was engraved so that whenever they took them off, which was rarely, the word forever was raised on the finger as the skin had pressed into the engraving. That way they were always with each other.

“I’m going to miss you.” Scott said, his voice so filled with tears it was getting difficult to understand him. “I’ll never stop missing you. That much I know. But I promise you, I’ll keep our deal. I’ll raise our kids they way we wanted and I’ll make sure they keep up the traditions we started. I love you Stiles. Forever.” As Scott finished he dissolved back into sobs and Lydia used her hold on his hand to guide him back to the pack so they could engulf him again.

They all watched together as the coffin was lowered into the ground, sobs breaking out of them randomly, as if they were explosions building in power and breaking out when it got to be too much. By the time they each took turns to step up to the grave and say goodbye before dropping a handful of soil in on top of the coffin, they were all in tears.

Stiles watched them, unable to look away, until he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Stiles.” It said.

He turned around, slack-jawed and staring. And there she was. Standing in front of a glowing light. His mother. “Mom?” He managed to say.

She nodded. There were tears on her face. “It’s time to go Stiles.” She said.

“Go where?”

“On.” She answered. “It’s time to go on.”

“And leave them?” Stiles asked, looking back at his pack. They were standing in a huge group again, this time with the adults in as well.

“Yes.” His mother told him. “But they will all join us, in the end. And you can come to get them. As I have come for you. In all due time, they’ll join us.”

Stiles stared at his pack for one long moment before nodding and turning back to his mother. “Alright.”

She smiled and held out a hand. He took it with a small, sad smile and looked back at his pack, his family, one more time before allowing his mother to lead him into the light.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know if you cried too!


End file.
